


I'm Here for You

by MerryWanderer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, First Kiss, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26978440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerryWanderer/pseuds/MerryWanderer
Summary: *Canon Divergent: basically they found Bucky after AoU, and none of the movies after that happen (Civil War, Infinity War, etc)*Bucky tells Steve about a nightmare, and feelings that Steve hadn't thought possible.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 34





	I'm Here for You

Steve had no idea where most of the rest of the Avengers were. He knew Tony was busy with his company, and that Clint was likely home with his family. Nat, he had no idea. Wanda was here in the tower somewhere, and so was Vision. Bucky was here too, for good or for ill. He had had to argue with Tony for what had felt like ever in order to get permission for the brunette to stay here. Steve could still hardly believe that Bucky was alive, much less here in the tower. The other man was asleep, for now, for which Steve was grateful. The past few months had been fraught with tension, to say the least. Bucky didn't remember much, and even what he did remember didn't make him likely to trust the others, which meant he was suspicious and tense, acting, half the time, like a cornered animal. Like he expected pain. And that hurt Steve, because he would never have hurt Bucky. Never. Sure, Bucky's memories were slowly getting better, but not very quickly, and he only sometimes managed to trust Steve.

He looked down at the sketchbook in his lap, at the sketch taking shape on the pale paper. He sighed, running his left hand through his hair, and then getting back to work. Beneath his pencil, the familiar form of his best friend was beginning to take shape. Haunted eyes, long hair, mouth set in a grim line. So very different from the happy man that Steve had known all those years ago, but it was still Bucky. Still his best friend. He refused to give up on a man who had never given up on him, even when Steve would pick fights with men twice his size.

His mouth pulled up in a faint smile as he remembered how many times Bucky had had to come to his rescue, hauling Steve away from whoever he was fighting. Sometimes, the taller man had even had to practically pick Steve up to get him away. And now...now Buck hardly remembered him. Didn't trust him. He sighed faintly, and got back to work on his sketch, blue eyes focused.

Eventually, however, he paused, hearing sounds from somewhere nearby. He set the pencil down, sitting up to listen. They were coming from...oh god, Bucky! He was up and moving before he was even consciously aware of where he was going, only knowing that he couldn't lose Bucky again. He couldn't lose him again! He was forcing open the bedroom door and coming into the room with fists raised before he realized what the sounds were.

A nightmare. Steve relaxed a little as he realized. Only a nightmare. But then...he had had his own nightmares, and they weren't something to shrug off. He moved over to the bed, crouching and cautiously reaching out to gently touch Bucky's shoulder. "Buck." he said quietly. "Buck, wake up. It's just a dream. It's just a dream, you're okay, come back to me." He felt rather helpless, actually. He had no idea how to wake Bucky up from this nightmare, only that he wanted to. "Buck, it's just a nightmare, please wake up." he shook the other man's shoulder gently, biting his lip faintly. Bucky was tense beneath his hand, muscles clenched and trembling, and soft, unintelligible words left his lips in an incoherent jumble. "Bucky!" he exclaimed, a bit louder this time. "Wake up!"

Bucky shot awake with a gasp and a shout, hands coming up and pushing at Steve. Steve immediately let go, giving Bucky space to breathe and think. "You're okay." he said softly, eyes fixed to the panicked, haunted face of his best friend. "I swear to you, you're safe here."

Bucky looked up at him, taking in trembling breaths and sitting up, the blankets a tangled mess around his legs. "Steve?" he said, voice a hoarse rasp.

Steve nodded a little. "Yeah. It's me." he said, keeping his voice soft and gentle, his movements slow and cautious. He didn't want to spook the traumatized man in front of him. Didn't want to cause him any more fear and anguish than he already had.

Bucky nodded faintly, eyes flickering around the room before returning to Steve. He had relaxed just a little bit, but that tension never left his body. The shadows never left his eyes, and Steve's heart panged in his chest as he remembered what Bucky had looked like smiling and happy. "Sorry." Bucky said, eyes flickering down to his hands. The left one was fisted in the blanket, and he slowly released it, staring at the metal limb as if he didn't recognize it. Didn't recognize himself.

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Buck." Steve said quietly, reaching out and brushing back a lock of hair from Bucky's eyes, wanting to be able to see him better. "Everybody gets nightmares sometimes." His therapist had said that Steve had PTSD, which...Steve had done some research on it, and he could believe that. He could believe that easily. But he saw those same symptoms in his best friend, and even stronger. Worse. He wondered if Sam would know what to do, how to reach out to the damaged, fractured man that Bucky had become. He made a mental note to ask Sam if there was a therapist who would be willing to work with Bucky.

Bucky nodded again, looking up at Steve with a faint flicker of surprise when the blonde brushed back his hair. His throat worked for a moment. "Not like this." he said quietly, eyes flashing back down again as if he couldn't bear to meet Steve's eyes.

"No, maybe not." Steve agreed softly, hand lingering gently against the side of Bucky's head, in what he hoped was a comforting touch. "But you can tell me about them, if you like. It might help." it had always helped him, to talk about his memories and his nightmares, even if that meant breaking down in tears in his therapist's office. It always felt better afterwards, though. Like he had let go of a burden.

Bucky's eyes were constantly in motion, looking from Steve to around the room to his hands, and back again, never lingering for too long. He shrugged, lower lip caught between his teeth.

"Buck. Buck, look at me." Steve said, voice quiet but firm. "I won't make you talk about it, but it might help if you would. Okay?"

Bucky's eyes finally settled on Steve, though he still seemed tense and frightened. "I..." he studied Steve for a long, wordless moment, and Steve didn't speak, just sat there and let Bucky think about what to do. "If I...told you...you won't leave?" he asked, brows drawing together as he searched Steve's face.

Steve blinked, wondering what on Earth had given Bucky the idea that Steve would leave, but he shook his head. "I won't leave. I promise." he gently stroked his thumb against Bucky's temple, actions guided mostly by an instinct he wasn't sure he understood.

Bucky nodded faintly, blue eyes flickering away for a moment, then back to Steve again. "I...I-I dreamed of...everyone that I've..." he was stammering, words quiet as a breath. Steve didn't say anything, just kept stroking the other man's temple, letting him take his time. "Everyone that...that HYDRA sent me to...to kill...I...Steve, there were so many." his voice cracked, and Steve felt like his own heart was cracking at the heartbreak and self-loathing in the other man's voice. "Th-there were so many, and I...I always did what they said to. I never...I killed children, Steve! Th-they sent me after whole families and I did it." tears shone in his blue eyes as he looked at Steve, and Steve swallowed faintly, heart breaking for his best friend. For what his best friend had been forced to do. "I n-never questioned them, I never...the things I've done..." he broke down in tears, covering his face with his hands.

Steve wrapped his arms around the other man, drawing him close. "Sshh, I've got you." he whispered, rubbing Bucky's back gently. "I've got you. It's going to be okay. It's going to be okay." Bucky leaned into him, still crying softly. This wasn't the first time Steve had talked with Bucky about his memories, but it was the first time Bucky had just...broken down like this. The first time that Bucky had dropped his guard enough to allow Steve to see him cry.

Bucky shook his head wordlessly. "I remember...so much death, Steve. So much death." his words were choked, thick with tears, and Steve nodded a little, tucking Bucky up close and shielding him in his arms.

"I know, I know." he soothed softly, rubbing the crying man's back still, touch gentle. "I'm so sorry." he thought for a moment, trying to remember what his therapist had told him when all he could think of was all the horror from his past, all the pain and suffering. "Think...think of something happy that you remember. Something good. Remember it. Focus on that for me, please." Bucky was trembling in his arms, and Steve hoped that Bucky remembered something pleasant. That not all of his memories were pain and fear. "Describe it to me?"

Bucky took in a long, shaking breath, and then slowly spoke. "I r-remember...I remember you." he said quietly. "W-we...we were in one of the army camps, in Europe. It was raining. You were drawing, and I was just...laying on the cot and watching you." his voice slowly began to steady out, and Steve kept rubbing his back, listening. He remembered this, he thought. "You were so absorbed in your sketchbook, you didn't...didn't take any notice of what I was doing. I...watched you for hours as you drew and drew and drew. I...I had thought you forgot I was there, because when I came over to see what you were drawing, you shouted and almost fell off the cot you were sitting on." Steve's mouth curled faintly. He remembered that incident, yes. But he hadn't jumped because he had forgotten Bucky was there; no, he had been all too aware of Bucky's presence on the other cot, and he had jumped because he hadn't expected Bucky to come over. "And you...you wouldn't let me see what you were drawing." Bucky finished.

"Would you like to know what I was drawing?" Steve asked softly. "I don't have that sketchbook anymore, but I'll tell you what it was, if you want me to." Bucky looked up at him, and nodded faintly. Steve smiled a little. "It was you. I was...embarrassed about it, I guess." he said, shrugging. His feelings for Bucky had always been...complicated, and he knew that he had felt things for his friend that wouldn't have been accepted. He had learned that now, in the 21st century, anyone could love anyone without ridicule. But he still felt a little awkward about the idea of bringing up what he felt, so he always remained silent about the topic. Even with Bucky back and some of those feelings returning...he wouldn't act on them unless Bucky did first.

Bucky looked vaguely confused. "Why?" he asked. "Why were you drawing me?"

"Well-" Steve broke off, unsure what to say. "I...I don't really know."

Bucky studied him, eyes flickering faintly. "Oh. Well..." his mouth worked for a moment. "I remembered something else, too." he said. And was it Steve's imagination, or was the dark haired man...starting to blush?

He cocked his head slightly. "What else did you remember?" he asked slowly.

"I...remembered that I felt..." Bucky looked away. He was definitely blushing. What had he remembered? "Things."

Steve almost laughed. "That's, ah, not very descriptive." he said, raising his eyebrows a little, amused.

"About...you. And...how I felt." Bucky said, and Steve wondered if it was possible that Bucky returned those feelings that had simmered inside of him for years. "I..." His eyes flickered around, away from Steve. "I remember...Steve, I...I remember that I...felt for you...what I felt for you...it wasn't entirely...friendship."

Steve felt like he'd been struck by lightning. "I-I...it wasn't?" he said, rather stupidly, staring at Bucky with wide blue eyes.

Bucky quickly looked away, hiding his face behind a hand. "I- forget about it, it's...I shouldn't have said anything. I know it's not..."

Steve leaned forward to press a kiss to Bucky's cheek. "Buck, I..." he was blushing too now, looking at the dark haired man. "I...have felt the same way for a while."

Bucky looked up at him with wide, startled eyes. "But I thought...Peggy..."

Steve shook his head. "I...like both. Genders, I-I mean. I liked Peg, yeah, but...I've always liked you...more."

Bucky's gaze searched his, and then his mouth was against Steve's, fast and desperate and hesitant. Steve wrapped his arms tighter around Bucky, but let him go when Bucky pulled away again. They stared at each other for a long moment, before Steve pulled Bucky back in for another kiss. This one was soft and gentle and exploratory, all-consuming and everything that Steve had ever wanted.


End file.
